


want something that lasts forever

by galaxyjun



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Boxing Day Shenanigans, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, happy birthday mother this au is a gift, hyuck and chenle are johnwin's kids, its just fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-27 18:24:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17167028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galaxyjun/pseuds/galaxyjun
Summary: as wonderful and amazing as sicheng is, johnny had to admit, his husband was a slave to capitalism.*boxing day is tomorrow. johnny is afraid.title from "cold december night" - michael buble





	want something that lasts forever

**Author's Note:**

  * For [breadfruit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/breadfruit/gifts).



> 'ULU HAPPY BIRTHDAY

johnny goes to sleep on christmas day uneasy. his children are tucked into bed, sleeping quietly, and his beautiful stunning gorgeous husband has long retired. it was johnny’s day for kitchen clean up, after all, but long after all the dishes had been put away, johnny had silently sat in the kitchen and worried.

boxing day was upon them. 

as wonderful and amazing as sicheng is, johnny had to admit, his husband was a slave to capitalism. sicheng would coupon meticulously, wait in line for hours, spit fire to retail employees — whatever it took to get the best deal. sicheng says it’s a result of his financially adept mother’s grooming. the $150 crockpot begs to disagree, but nonetheless, sicheng is a _monster_ when it comes to sales.

black friday is evidence enough. johnny still shivers in fear when he sees the kitchenaid mixer on his countertop. and even though they’ve inevitably given in to the irresistible callings of bargains and offers, johnny still makes the firm promise to himself that this year is _the_ year. the one where they finally free themselves from the chains of consumerism. the year that they don’t fucking do boxing day.

the only issue is _how._

which is why johnny is still awake. the lights on the christmas tree shine through the room, casting red and blue and green and purple across their walls. it’s dreamlike, beautiful, ethereal. it’s magic painted through their home, the same magic that’s in chenle’s laughter and in donghyuck’s eyes and in sicheng’s voice, singing to their children, soft and sweet and gentle. it’s magic johnny is blessed to have. magic he wouldn’t trade for anything else in the world.

with a sigh, johnny lifts himself from the counter and climbs upstairs. he creeps through the halls, listening for the snuffling of his sleeping children, careful not to wake them up. he pushes open his bedroom door, a millimetre at a time. sicheng’s breathing is deep, peaceful, even. johnny does his best to keep it that way, inching over to the bed and sliding in carefully. sicheng stirs, just ever so slightly, rolling over and tucking himself closer to johnny’s side before drifting off again. johnny lets himself breathe.

he sighs, pulling sicheng closer to himself, winding their legs together, burying his nose into sicheng’s hair. he inhales, breathing in the smell of sicheng’s shampoo, closing his eyes, willing himself to sleep. he needs as much as he can get for the upcoming day, which will be inevitably brought upon by sicheng’s six am alarm.

and so, johnny falls asleep, wrapped around his husband, warm and safe.

and the next morning, johnny wakes up peacefully.

he wakes up, blinking sleep out of his eyes, with the sun casting its rays across his chest. still groggy and sluggish, he rolls over to find donghyuck’s sleeping face merely centimetres from him. his full cheeks are smushed against the pillow, one chubby had wrapped around his body of his sleeping brother. johnny can’t see chenle’s face, but he can perfectly envision chenle’s slightly parted mouth and mussed hair. johnny smiles, heart full and warm and fuzzy.

he slips out of bed quietly, as to not disturb the sleeping angels, and leaves them in the sunshine.

downstairs, sicheng sings to himself softly, flipping a vegan pancake as elegantly as anyone could flip a pancake. his hair is messy and his face is still red from how hard he scrubbed it, almost as pink as the apron he’s wearing. johnny, completely and utterly in love, sneaks up behind him, grabs him by the waist, and murmurs a soft and sweet “good morning” into his ear.

sicheng tilts his head back, kissing johnny’s jaw. “mmm, good morning.” he whispers. sleep still clings to the edges of his voice, and his words are as sweet as honey and drips just as slow. it tints johnny’s vision gold, makes him woozy, draws him in even further into sicheng’s smile. “did you sleep well?”

“yeah.” johnny plants a couple kisses into sicheng’s hairline. “are we gonna hit the shops soon?”

and like he’s hiding a secret underneath his tongue, sicheng purses his lips, eyes glimmering. “we’re not doing that this year.” he says, like its a guilty little secret.

johnny can’t help the way his eyes widen, his hands falter, his mouth drops. it makes sicheng snort with laughter, but johnny asks over top of his snickering “what? what made you change your mind??”

and sicheng smiles, and johnny feels his heart swoop like it did the first time he saw him. “i wanted to spend the day together.” he says simply, pouring the batter for another pancake. “and at home, not running around some store. together, at home, watch a movie or something, y’know?”

johnny grabs him by the hips, spins him around, presses him to the countertop. “fuck.” he whispers, reverently. he kisses sicheng, once, then twice, then a third time but its longer, sweeter, slower. he pulls away, still unable to shake the note of awe from his voice when he says “i love you so fucking much baby.”

sicheng snorts, slapping johnny’s shoulder. “don’t be an idiot.” he says, all too fondly. “besides, i did all my shopping online before you woke up.”

still a buy in to capitalism. but the proletariat will have to rise another day, because all johnny can bring himself to do is kiss his husband senseless. “progress.” he whispers against sicheng’s lips, and breathes his husband’s laughter in.

**Author's Note:**

> i love this dumb gay family... so much......
> 
> [twitter](http://www.twitter.com/maplemarkle) | [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/kyunset)


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